


You’re In Too Deep

by LilyOrchard, MikailaT



Series: Anevay Darkflare - Horde Champion [9]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: F/F, Feelings Realization, Flirting, Nathanos is a little shit and it's great, Pining, Rebound, Self-Hatred, disaster lesbian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:33:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27118921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyOrchard/pseuds/LilyOrchard, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MikailaT/pseuds/MikailaT
Summary: Simple comforts and compassion might seem like nothing special, but when you've gone eons without them they provoke certain revelations in oneself.
Relationships: Sylvanas Windrunner/Original Character(s)
Series: Anevay Darkflare - Horde Champion [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1939501
Comments: 3
Kudos: 42





	You’re In Too Deep

**Year 31 - Two Days Before the Invasion of Draenor**

Sylvanas exited her quarters the next morning, the tea Anevay had given her actually having caused her to fall asleep for the first time in years. The last thirty hours were a blur of anguish, emptiness and comfort. The lingering effects of the tea and biscuits remained, giving her a light and airy feeling while still maintaining her mental faculties. The especially bold might have claimed that there was an honest to Light spring in her step.

As she arrived in the conference room to meet with Nathanos and Anevay, she found the elf there alone. Nathanos hadn’t arrived yet.

“Dark Lady,” Anevay nodded, smiling politely. “How are you doing?”

Sylvanas opened her mouth to speak when the most peculiar thing happened. It was as if the warm and soothing contentment that she experienced after yesterday's fiasco suddenly returned in full force. The sensation was damn near virtigo inducing as she could have sworn her knees were about to give. 

"I…"

"Dark Lady?" Anevay asked, a hint of worry in her voice.

Sylvanas gathered herself, alarm caused by her slipping composure overriding the sudden rush she was feeling. "I am well," Sylvanas nodded. Something of a lie, but it was all too much for her to get into right now. 

“Alright,” Anevay nodded, reaching up to scratch her neck. She tilted her head as she read through the scrolls the Dark Rangers had given her, her auburn hair draping down one side of her head. “Nathanos will be here shortly, there was an incident in the apothecarium he needed to deal with."

"Lovely," Sylvanas deadpanned, rounding the table to her seat. "It's a miracle that powder keg hasn't drowned us all in blight."

“They’ve been putting in failsafes lately in case of a breach,” Anevay explained, running her fingers through her hair as she continued skimming the reports from the Dark Rangers. “They don’t like keeping the Blight so close to the healing elixirs.”

Sylvanas had only partially paid attention to Anevay's words. In truth she found herself more transfixed on the hair she was casually combing through her fingers. It appeared… surprisingly silky. Especially for a warrior. And did she always have all those freckles?  "...Yes, well good," Sylvanas said, at least harboring enough sense to respond in a timely manner. 

Anevay’s ear twitched at Sylvanas’ almost distant words and she glanced up at her. “Are you sure you’re alright, my Queen? You sound tired.”

Sylvanas bristled, the prospect of her actual mood being so obvious leaving her feeling exposed. She had to remind herself that this was okay. That it was Darkflare she was talking to. Darkflare could be trusted. She knew that much.  "...A little," she admitted almost inaudibly. "But such is the existence of a queen."

“I can make you more tea if you’d like,” Anevay smiled warmly, setting the scroll down and brushing her hair behind her ear.

A ‘Yes, please,’ nearly flew freely from Sylvanas’ lips before she could reign it in. Despite the idea of more Felblood tea sounding absolutely wonderful at that moment, something about asking for it again so soon, especially after last night seemed… she wasn’t sure how to describe it. Rude? Needy? Whatever the feeling, she couldn’t help but think that simply asking for more tea didn’t seem proper.  “...A lovely offer,” she said, “But perhaps another time, lest I develop an addiction to your concoctions.” 

“Very well, my Queen,” Anevay nodded as she continued perusing the scrolls. “Are you feeling any better from last night? When you returned to the Undercity, you seemed upset about something.”

Sylvanas bristled slightly, her eyes cast down to the table. She didn’t answer right away, unsure if doing so would be admitting too much of what happened last night. She wasn’t sure exactly how much Anevay knew, but she’d rather that it was as little as possible. “...Yes, I am feeling a fair degree better than last night,” she said. “I take it that surprise I found in my chambers was your doing?”

“It seemed like you needed it,” Anevay nodded as she moved on to another scroll, yawning slightly and looking simultaneously tired and comfortable. “You had me worried, Dark Lady.”

That might have been the ultimate proof that Darkflare didn’t, in fact, know exactly what transpired that night. If she had, the blood elf likely would have been showering Sylvanas in absolutely frenzied pity rather than just leaving a care package in her chambers. That notion allowed her shoulders to ease with relief.

“I suppose if anyone should be worried, it is I,” Sylvanas replied, her eyes narrowing on Anevay, “for knowing that you somehow found a way into my quarters uninvited.”

“I didn’t deliver it myself,” Anevay said, laying the scroll down again and meeting Sylvanas’ eyes. “I asked Nathanos to bring it to you after I’d prepared it. I’d never go into your quarters uninvited, my Queen.”

“Good answer,” Sylvanas said, an approving smile playing at her lips. “You never cease to prove yourself trustworthy, Darkflare.” 

“I was worried about you, not struck with the urge to test your patience,” Anevay giggled, smiling at Sylvanas brightly. “I’m glad to hear it helped, though.”

That smile very nearly tripped up Sylvanas’ response. Was her smile always so lovely? “...Yes, well, I must say that the biscuits were surprisingly delectable. I may have to ask you for the recipe.”

“It’s a regular biscuit with felblood added to the batter,” Anevay nodded. “You could add felblood to anything to give it the same effects. Were you able to taste them?”

Sylvanas nodded. “First time I had tasted butter on my tongue in decades. Had I not prepared for that, I may very well have gone into shock.”

A warm laugh was exchanged between them, causing the soothing relief to flow through Sylvanas’ being once more. Was Darkflare’s company suddenly enough to cause such a reaction from her now? It was something she would have considered curious if it weren’t so pleasant.

Anevay stood up from the table and drew closer to Sylvanas. “I’ll need to gather more parchment before Nathanos gets back. I’ll only be gone a few minutes, so I won’t miss the meeting,” Anevay said, laying a hand on Sylvanas’ shoulder as she passed.

Sylvanas very nearly reached out for Anevay as she passed, surprising even herself with that impulse. She watched as Anevay left the room, turning the corner and vanishing from sight. 

As she left, the slight haze over Sylvanas’ mind also lifted. Absolute clarity came to her mind once more. With that charity came confusion and a growing sprout of worry. She hadn’t felt so at ease just by Darkflare’s presence before. She was ready to assume it was just a lingering affect of the tea she left in her chambers, but since waking up she only felt it when the blood elf was around.  Was it… some sort of fragrance? Felblood pheromones? Sylvanas felt as though she would be able to smell such a thing.

Anevay returned extremely quickly with a half a dozen blank scrolls in her arms, setting them into a neat little pile on the table before sitting back down. “The apothecarium must be in a really bad state if it’s taking him this long,” she said, glancing at the door.

Sylvanas made a noncommittal noise in her throat, taking extra care to mind her words and actions this time. “He has a history of needing everything to be just so,” she replied. “Perhaps their cataloguing method is not to his liking.” 

Anevay huffed and sat back in her chair, smiling at Sylvanas. “Well that just means more time to talk to you. A lovely prospect, if I do say so myself.”

The fluttery feeling returned, this time causing Sylvanas to tense slightly. Was it the smile? Her mind words? Her voice? What was causing her subconscious to suddenly behave this way? Whatever it was, she couldn’t risk letting her Champion find out. That would only make the situation more complicated.  “Being alone with the Banshee Queen?” She asked, doing her best to sound detached. “Sounds like the ghost stories Alliance parents tell their children to make them behave.”

“It also sounds like the tavern stories you hear from well-traveled lesbians,” Anevay practically smirked.

Sylvanas scoffed. “Oh? Do those ventured women of the world boast about who can make the Banshee wail?” she asked, though not harshly. “I was unaware that was something others felt like boasting about. At best, I had expected to be merely the greatest revenge fucking fantasy of poorly adjusted men.”

“You clearly underestimate how beautiful you are, my Queen,” Anevay snickered as she flipped through the scrolls.

Sylvanas’ eyes widened a fraction at that. The reflexive deflection she had become stuck in her throat. The fluttering feeling worsened, or improved, depending on one’s perception on the matter. She attempted to shake the thoughts and feelings from her mind. She needed to think clearly. 

Anevay wasn’t serious when she said that. She couldn’t have been. Could she? And where did  _ she _ get off calling anyone else beautiful when she was as radiant as Belore herself?  ...What?

“...Careful. You’ll feed into my vanity,” Sylvanas scoffed after having gathered her thoughts together. “I’m pretty certain priests still consider that an impurity.”

“It’s not vanity if it’s true, my Queen,” Anevay shrugged, glancing at Sylvanas. Her eye twitched slightly, as if she had been about to wink at her and thought better of it. “You are, quite frankly, stunning.”

Sylvanas felt the urge to suddenly claw at the table. Was Anevay always this flirtatious? She knew that the woman was as gay as could be, but was she ever this direct with Sylvanas specifically? Was the Blood Elf aware of the current effect that she had on her and was pressing it to see what she could get away with? No. She couldn’t think that way about Anevay. Not now. Not after everything she’s proven.  “...Thank you,” she said quietly, her voice lacking it’s ethereal edge.

“No need to thank me for stating a fact, my Queen,” Anevay looked back up at her and smiled warmly. “But you’re welcome regardless.” She flipped through the last scroll and yawned, rolling them up and setting them in the middle of the table for when Nathanos arrived. Sitting back in her chair, she inspected her fingernails while occasionally stealing glances at Sylvanas.

Sylvanas caught more than she might have, were her thoughts not completely fixated on Anevay. She was only partially paying attention to what Nathanos was saying with her current distractions. 

“The accomplice of Hellscream’s escape has been identified,” Nathanos reported. “However, our spy network has gathered that Greymane is still trying to cast the blame onto us.”

“Of course he is,” Anevay scoffed, slouching in her chair. “Never mind the fact that Hellscream threatened the both of us with violent punishment more times than we can count. Sure Genn. While you’re at it, the Dark Lady built the Dark Portal and was responsible for the plague in Lordaeron the whole time!”

“Next he’ll say I seek to usurp Bolvar and control the Scourge,” Sylvanas scoffed, her annoyance of Greymane offering her a moment’s clarity. “Will we have to worry about him breaking the peace so soon?” 

“It doesn’t appear that the other Alliance leaders are convinced of Greymane’s claim, surprisingly enough,” Nathanos answered. “Still, it wouldn’t hurt to prepare for just such an eventuality.”

“I have intelligence from the Dark Rangers that someone plotted to poison Hellscream, but that Anduin Wrynn and Vereesa Windrunner interfered,” Anevay shrugged. “Perhaps Varian ought to be made aware of how much his own people were accomplices to Hellscream’s escape.”

Sylvanas visibly tensed, the claws of her gauntlet scraping against the oak table as a result. Both Nathanos and Anevay took note of this and exchanged looks of concern. Anevay's carried a hint of guilt.  


“...Perhaps the High King can learn to reign his own people in,” Sylvanas said, fighting for control over herself. “But I doubt anything more will come of it. The Alliance admits to fault only slightly more than Hellscream does.”

“Understood, my Queen,” Anevay nodded, looking regretful. She hadn’t meant to prod at a fresh wound and had spoken without thinking. The desire to properly apologize was building inside her, but that would give away that she’d eavesdropped on the Dark Lady. “I will simply have the Dreadguard prepare for a potential Worgen attack and increase patrols.”

“Good,” Sylvanas nodded before turning to the Ranger Lord. “And keep your ear to the ground, Nathanos. For news regarding the Alliance and of Hellscream. It was no secret that he despised the Forsaken and without knowing where it is he has gone, there’s no telling what kind of threat he will pose to us someday.”

“Of course, My Queen,” Nathanos said with a dutiful bow.

A few more, less critical things were discussed in that meeting, particularly infrastructure in Lordaeron. Anevay had suggested the construction of full roads between all Forsaken settlements for easier travel and mobilization of forces, as well as increased construction work in settlements that were still run-down remains. Previously, Sylvanas had done construction work only where necessary to conserve resources and focus on her goals, but Anevay had made a case for it being worth it in the long run, both for future resources and Forsaken morale. Nathanos had also suggested regular patrols between the Undercity and Andorhal in the event of an Alliance incursion.  By the end of the meeting, Nathanos had left while Anevay had remained.

“I’ll get these orders to Belmont and the workers,” Anevay assured her as she picked up the new scrolls. “Was there anything else before I go, my Queen?”

There was, in fact, nothing else, but Sylvanas felt the urge to say something just to get Anevay to stay. To have another few moments alone with her now that Nathanos had departed. Alas, with her mind as inexplicably frazzled as it was, she couldn’t think of an excuse to keep her here that didn’t expose her true reasoning.  Whatever that true reasoning was. 

“...Just go check in with the Apothecaries,” she said finally. “Make sure Nathanos didn’t behead anyone for their method of organizing.”

“Alright,” Anevay nodded. As she passed by Sylvanas’ chair, she stopped and gave her a one-armed hug around the shoulders before departing. To an outsider it would have looked strange, but Anevay had gotten into the habit of leaving meetings by giving Sylvanas a hug ever since they had decided to be friends.  The Banshee Queen inhaled sharply. An unnecessary reaction, but one that came by reflex nonetheless. It was enough that Anevay gave her a brief look of confusion and worry before coming to a realization. 

“Oh right. Body heat,” she said sheepishly. “Should I give you a heads up from now on?”

“...N-No, no you’re fine,” Sylvanas said, sounding breathless. “No worries.” 

Anevay’s brow furrowed. Sylvanas hadn’t had this kind of reaction in the last year. What was wrong? Still, she respected Sylvanas’ words and left without saying anything else, leaving the Dark Lady alone at the table.  Sylvanas waited until her keen ears could no longer hear Anevay’s footsteps. When she was finally graced with that silence, her head dropped onto the table with a heavy thud.  She wanted to scream. She wanted to claw her own infernal mind out. By the Endless Dark, what was wrong with her? What was it about Darkflare that suddenly had her so flustered? It couldn’t just have been the tea and biscuits. Anevay had done countless other things that were just as sweet and considerate in the past and they didn’t have this sort of lingering reaction. And yet, here was the Banshee Queen, flustering and fumbling like some lovestruck schoo-

Her thoughts screeched to a halt. If it were possible, her face would have become pale as fresh linens. 

No. She couldn’t humor that kind of thinking. It had to be something else.

* * *

“So I’m thinking a few archer platforms and regular guard duty up above in the ruins,” Anevay nodded as she went over the plans for increased security with the Dreadguard Commander. “And possibly some permanently configured Blight throwers. At this point, I wouldn’t put anything past the Alliance.”

“That should be doable,” the Commander nodded. “Just as long as the Dark Lady signs off on all of this.”

“I’ll have to get that to you another time, then,” Anevay nodded. “The Dark Lady’s been distracted and a little off all day. I’ve decided to give her some quiet before I bother her with anything.”

The Commander’s brow furrowed at Anevay’s words. “Is something troubling the Dark Lady?” he inquired. 

“I’m not sure,” Anevay lied. She knew what had been troubling her just last night, but refused to utter a word about it. “I’m a little worried about her.”

“What is bad for the Dark Lady is bad for us all,” the Commander said, nodding in agreement. “Perhaps improving security around Lordaeron will help lift her spirits, so to speak.” 

“Hope so,” Anevay nodded as she rolled up the scroll. “I made her some felblood tea last night, perhaps I’ll make another mug for her. If anything it should help her relax.”

The Commander did a double take, his yellow eyes widened with surprise. “You make tea for the Dark Lady?” he asked incredulously. “Are the both of you…?” he didn’t so much as finish his question as make emphatic motions with his hands to try and convey his meaning.

“...Are the both of us what?” Anevay asked, raising an eyebrow.

“... _ Involved, _ ” the Forsaken man clarified. “It’s just that you two seem quite… familiar with each other.”

“Oh!” Anevay’s eyes widened in realization. “Oh no! No, not… not like that! We’re on friendly terms, but not uh… not  _ that  _ friendly!”

“I see,” the Commander said, not appearing entirely convinced. “Your pardon, Champion. It is just that I recall the Dark Lady lavishing praise onto you most consistently. With what you described just now… I had only assumed.”

Anevay shook her head with a smile. “No, it doesn’t go that far, we’re just friends. And no pardon needed. Better you asked me than her.”

A wry chuckle escaped his throat. “I reckon she would likely have my head for being so bold.” His smile became something more sincere as he looked back at Anevay. “You have my thanks, Lady Darkflare. It’s not often that the living are as considerate as our Queen.”

“I try to match her kindness,” Anevay nodded with a smile. “After all, the Dark Lady can be considerate to everyone but herself. Someone has to pick up that slack. And besides, I like the Forsaken.”

“How fortunate that we like you in kind,” the Commander smiled. 

“Awww, thanks, Commander,” Anevay grinned. “Well, I have to get these next orders to Velonara, I’ll see you around.” She waved goodbye to the Commander as she turned to make her way to the War Quarter. As she did, however, she nearly walked face-first into Sylvanas as she was coming out of a ranger corridor.

“Eeep!” she squeaked, skidding to a halt. “Sorry, Dark Lady! Didn’t see you there!”

“Well you managed to catch yourself,” Sylvanas observed, something akin to a playful smile gracing her lips. “So your reflexes are serving you well. Awareness still needs work of course.” 

“I’ll work on that, my Queen,” Anevay nodded, her smile brightening considerably now that she was speaking to Sylvanas. “Are you feeling any better?”

Sylvanas pursed her lips, as if giving the question genuine thought. “...It’s been quite some time since I could say I honestly feel well, but I’m not feeling worse.” 

“Well that’s a start at least,” Anevay smiled, laying a hand on Sylvanas’ shoulder. “You had me worried for a bit in the meeting.”

Sylvanas, managing to anticipate the contact, kept from reacting noticeably. The fluttering was still there, of course, but she took extra care not to let it show. “I appreciate your concern, Anevay,” she said softly. “I assure you that it’s nothing I cannot handle.” 

“I believe you, I-” Anevay stopped, her brow furrowing. “...Did you just call me by my first name?”

Sylvanas blinked. “...Have… Have I not before?” she asked, genuinely uncertain. She could have sworn that the two of them were on a first name basis when they agreed to be friends. Did she misremember something? Did this slip up finally show her hand? What hand? She still barely understood what it was that she was experiencing!

“You have before, but you haven’t in the last year,” Anevay shrugged, holding the scrolls to her chest. “And you’ve never done it out in the open like this. I think you said something about professionalism. I don’t know, it was three years ago.”

“...Yes well, I can address Nathanos by his first name, and we can talk professionally,” Sylvanas justified, struggling to maintain eye contact with Anevay. As much as she wished to simply disengage from this conversation, she knew that doing so would only cause more problems. Her ears shifted about, searching for anyone that might have been within earshot of the two. “Besides, I think we’ve moved past ‘strictly professional’ when you left offerings in my chambers.”

Anevay smiled and nodded. “Thank you, my Queen. I appreciate that. I never actually much cared for being called ‘Champion’ or ‘Darkflare.’ If I had my way, everyone would use my first name.”

“Even if you ascended to leadership?” Sylvanas inquired. 

“Well I don’t see myself doing that anytime soon,” Anevay chuckled. “But leadership would come with a different title than ‘Champion’ anyway.”

“Exactly,” Sylvanas replied. “If you found yourself with the mantle of Queen, would you insist that your people simply call you Anevay?”

Anevay shrugged. “Perhaps. Depends on what I’m Queen  _ of _ .”

“Fair enough,” Sylvanas conceded, her eyes falling to the scrolls Anevay held close to her chest. “Are any of those for me?”

“Um… yes actually,” Anevay nodded, plucking a scroll out of the bunch and holding it out to her. “The Commander needs you to sign off on the new security measures. I was going to come find you later since you seemed like something was bothering you.”

Sylvanas accepted the scroll and unfurled it. “Well I cannot exactly put my duties on hold simply because I am feeling off,” Sylvanas commented with a shrug. “The Forsaken deserve more from their ruler than that.” 

“You’re right. But their ruler deserves time to herself so as not to wear herself down to the bone,” Anevay smiled as she clutched the other scrolls to her chest.

Sylvanas paused, looking up from the scroll to flash Anevay a genuinely touched expression. One she likely should have reigned in, but didn’t. “...That is kind of you to say, Anevay,” she said. “Perhaps with you by my side, we won’t run that risk.”  Her eyes returned to the parchment, taking in all its information. “This all seems to be in order. I’ll be sure to sign it when I return to the Royal Quarter.”

“Excellent, my Queen,” Anevay bowed slightly and glanced around Sylvanas to see Velonara heading into the War Quarter. “Was there anything you needed of me?”

“As you were, Anevay,” Sylvanas said casually as she skimmed through the scroll once more. “You seem to have everything in hand.” 

“Thank you, my Queen,” Anevay nodded as she stepped around her and continued at a brisk pace toward the War Quarter.

Sylvanas glanced up to give the Blood Elf a parting nod, silently proud of herself for not so blatantly unraveling in her presence, when something caught her eye. It was then that she noticed that Anevay wasn’t wearing the cloak that she had tailored for the armor she was wearing. As such, Sylvanas had a full view of her backside as she walked away.  It was curvy, yet firm, fitting into her leather breeches perfectly. Such a sight would the turned the heads of even the most celibate priest. Sylvanas, for one, couldn’t find it within herself to look away.

“Something the matter, my Queen?” came the voice of Nathanos from behind her, making her actually jump in surprise.

She rounded on him and bared her fangs. “What have I told you about sneaking up on me?!”

Nathanos made an amused huff. “I did not think I was capable of such a thing,” he said, his tone mockingly coy. 

Sylvanas glowered at the Ranger Lord, folding her arms in front of her. “I trust you have an excuse for nearly expelling my spirit from my body?” she asked firmly.

Nathanos handed her a scroll, his beard concealing the smirk on his face. “I have the scouting report ready for you. I also felt it prudent to check up on you after the incident in the meeting.”

Sylvanas took the scroll and raised an eyebrow at him. “What incident?”

“You were staring at Darkflare with a drunk look on your face the entire meeting,” Nathanos said matter-of-factly.

Sylvanas balked. “I most certainly did not!” she protested indignantly. 

“It certainly looked like you did,” Nathanos said with an amused grin. 

“All that proves is that you need to get your rotten eyes replaced,” Sylvanas huffed as she tucked the scroll he gave her into her cloak. “Whatever it is you think you saw, it could not be farther from the truth.”

“Well I am quite certain I saw you staring at her just now,” Nathanos half-chuckled.

“With a backside like that, I’m surprised you  _ weren’t. _ ” 

Sylvanas tensed, realizing what exactly it was she just said, and cast her gaze to the floor.

“Unlike you, I don’t find Darkflare to be all that attractive,” Nathanos smirked. “Some things never change, do they my Queen?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sylvanas demanded, mustering the will to cast an irritated glare at the Ranger Lord.

“Well, Darkflare is a young woman who practically reveres you and goes to great lengths to please you,” Nathanos shrugged. “I recall many a Ranger and one mage who fit that bill as well that you pursued.”

“I am not  _ pursuing _ Darkflare, Nathanos!” Sylvanas countered. “She is a valued asset and a valued friend. That is the extent of it. Anything else is too risky.”

Nathanos cocked an eyebrow. “Risky? The both of you could easily slay anyone who threatened you.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Sylvanas countered in frustration, making her way back to the Royal Quarter knowing that Nathanos would follow. “To even humor the idea of…  _ pursuing _ Darkflare would be to accept the risk and the likelihood of it ending badly. If that were to happen, I’d be without one of my greatest warriors.” 

“So it is entirely because you fear her leaving that you are not pursuing her?” Nathanos said with a smirk. “Strange, as you denied any such desire to only a moment ago.”

“I’m going to nail your tongue to the wall,” Sylvanas sneered, her ears low against the hood of her cloak. “I am only speaking in hypotheticals.”

“Hypotheticals you seemed to have given a great deal of thought to,” Nathanos countered. 

“Fuck off.”

* * *

“Everything is set, my Queen,” Anevay said as she rolled up the last scroll. “Lordaeron’s new improvements are under construction and security has been increased tenfold in all settlements. If the Alliance so much as crosses the border, we’ll know instantly.”

Sylvanas smiled. “I should have realized you would settle this matter quickly and efficiently, Anevay,” she said, an undeniable fondness in her timbre. “Yet you continuously surprise me. Well done.” 

“I knew you would be pleased if I had it done as quickly as possible,” Anevay smiled, taking a seat in one of the armchairs. She had actually been invited into Sylvanas’ chambers to deliver this particular report, as the Dark Lady was in the middle of filling out paperwork anyway.

“Not just quickly, but correctly,” Sylvanas amended. “Fast is fine…”

“...But accurate is final,” Anevay finished with a smirk. “You were always fond of that one, My Queen.”

“I’m only fond of it because it’s so true,” Sylvanas replied, placing aside another signed document. 

“Rest assured I never sacrifice quality for speed,” Anevay giggled. “I’m sure you’d have my hide if I did.”

_ ‘It is a very good hide.’  _ Sylvanas knew better than to voice such thoughts aloud, despite how frequently they’ve been coming to mind now. 

“How fortunate for me that you’re able to deliver results under those harrowing working conditions,” Sylvanas mused coyly as she pretended to go over the next parchment on the stack. In truth, she was taking fleeting glances at the Blood Elf sitting across from her, looking positively resplendent in the warm candlelight surrounding them.

“Harrowing working conditions?” Anevay raised an eyebrow. “I’m afraid I don’t follow, my Queen.”

“Oh. Just a small joke about having your hide,” Sylvanas said dismissively. “Your pardon, Anevay. I’m still getting reacquainted with this whole humor situation.” 

“Oh!” Anevay slapped her forehead. “Right! Sorry, I’m historically slow on the uptake,” she laughed.

Sylvanas chuckled, finding Anevay to be utterly adorable in this state. “It’s quite alright,” she assured her. 

Anevay let out a wry huff of laughter. “Yeah, I’m not exactly sharp, am I? _I wouldn’t be surprised if you only keep me around for my ass._ ”

Sylvanas blinked, lowering the parchment she wasn’t even reading to arch a confused brow at Anevay. “I beg your pardon.”

_“You know. Cuz you were looking at my ass earlier,”_ Anevay said with an easy smile. _“Or did you think I didn’t notice?”_

Sylvanas’ eyes widened a fraction. “I… I’m sorry, what? I was doing no such thing,” she felt her chest tighten, wondering if Anevay was bluffing or if she’d actually seen her.

_“It’s okay, Dark Lady. I don’t mind,”_ Anevay insisted, her smile widening as she rose from her chair. _“In fact, I think it’s kinda hot. Being gandered at by my Queen.”_

Sylvanas suddenly found herself unable to respond. The instinctive tightening rose to her throat, cutting off that option. She watched as Anevay approached her with what could only be described as a saunter, her gaze becoming lidded and borderline lecherous. 

_“You can do more than look, you know,”_ Anevay said, her voice surprisingly smooth and sultry. 

“I…” Sylvanas wasn’t even sure what to say even if she could form a coherent sentence. Her entire undead coil seemed to betray her. She had the instinctual urge to order Anevay to leave, yet that would require speech skills that had suddenly decided to take a sabbatical.

Then Anevay surprised her by straddling her lap and wrapping her arms around the Banshee Queen’s neck. _“You… what?”_ she purred.  _ Purred _ .

“I… I think you might misundersta-”

_“Oh, I think I understand perfectly,”_ Anevay said lithly. It was all the warning she gave the Banshee Queen before gracefully sliding down into her lap. One of those impossibly warm hands came up to pull down Sylvanas’ hood and play with her hair. _“You want me.”_

“I..I…” Sylvanas was practically shaking out of her armor with how intensely she trembled. 

_“You want to have me, but you don’t understand that I’m already yours,”_ Anevay crooned, her fingers gliding over Sylvanas’ jawline as she drew closer. **“** **_Just take me.”_ **

Sylvanas was trembling so badly she could have sworn she actually had a heartbeat again. “I… I can’t…” she whispered. She shivered as Anevay’s fingers drifted over her skin. “We can’t…”

_“Sure we can,”_ Anevay protested silkily, her mouth drawing close enough that Sylvanas could feel hot breath brush over her lips. _“Together, we can do anything. Especially each other.”_

“Anevay, please…”

_“Please what, my Queen?”_ Anevay purred, her voice echoing slightly. “ _My Queen?_ My Queen?”

Sylvanas blinked and suddenly Anevay wasn’t in her lap, mere centimeters from her face. Instead she was bent over the couch, a hand on her shoulder as she looked at Sylvanas with a mixture of confusion and concern.

“My Queen, you completely drifted out,” Anevay said once Sylvanas finally acknowledged her.

Sylvanas’ ears drooped down.  Did that entire exchange just occur in her head? Was that an absolute fantasy!?  “I… I’m sorry, Anevay,” she said, clearing her throat as she righted herself in her seat. “I simply got… distracted. What-what were you saying?”

“I was saying that it was good to see you’ve been doing better, but then this happened,” Anevay’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure you’re alright? You’ve been like this all day.”

Sylvanas nearly bit her bottom lip in front of Anevay. A force of habit she had thought been quelled by undeath, but clearly not. She couldn’t tell her the truth. No matter what anyone said, the truth would only make things worse.  “I… suppose I am still troubled by recent events,” Sylvanas said. It was effectively a lie. While Vereesa’s betrayal was still fresh in her mind, it wasn’t occupying the vast majority of her thoughts. Rather than dwell and wallow in her misery, it would seem that Sylvanas was instinctively seeking comfort from the one person she knew would never betray her. 

“I apologize for worrying you with this, Anevay,” she said softly.

Anevay’s expression softened considerably, and she leaned forward and hugged Sylvanas. “You don’t have to apologize for that. I’m your friend. It’s no trouble at all,” she said softly. “I can make you some more tea if you’d like.”

It would have felt wrong to indulge in Anevay’s offer. It felt risky to drink any more of that irresistible elixir and trust her own lips not to let something slip.  Alas, Sylvanas was too frazzled and frustrated to care in that instance.  “That would be lovely,” Sylvanas agreed. “...So long as you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Anevay smiled as she pulled away enough to look her in the eye. “It’ll just be twenty minutes. I’ll be back in a bit.” Then Anevay surprised Sylvanas by hugging her again and, most bizarrely, kissing the top of her head before retreating from the room.

It wasn’t until she heard the door shut that Sylvanas spontaneously melted in her seat. She had half a mind to snag a pillow from her bed and scream into it if she didn’t know it would reduce the cushion into a mess of feathers.  Anevay had to know by now! She had to! Why else would she literally kiss the top of her fucking head!? Sylvanas hid her face in her hands, knowing that simply looking at anything while her mind was fraught with such thoughts would have overwhelmed her.  By this point she knew exactly what was going on, she just didn’t have the nerve to admit it to herself. She couldn’t. She was better than this! She was supposed to be above all of this! Nothing good came from getting attached to anything or anyone. Her sister should have instilled that lesson in her completely and utterly!  But somehow a simple mug of tea and a few biscuits had completely unravelled that lesson. Why?!

...Because it wasn’t just a simple mug of tea and biscuits. It was a thoughtful act of kindness from one of the most trustworthy people Sylvanas has ever known. Someone who has proven time and again to be dependable, faithful and kind. Somewhere along that line of practiced dedication, Anevay went from being a valuable asset to being literally irreplaceable. The thought of losing her was absolutely mortifying, and now Sylvanas knew why. 

She had fallen in love with her.

As she admitted that, she felt a weight lift off her chest. Her entire body eased and she was able to stop trembling for a few moments. The dread of any horrible way Anevay could find out and the consequences thereof remained. But they felt… easier to handle now.  She heard the door clatter as it opened. She turned her head to see that Anevay had returned with a piping hot mug and several other things in hand. She flashed Sylvanas that same smile that she adored. The kind of smile that could convince her that all their troubles were a lifetime away. 

“Special delivery!” Anevay said cheerfully, placing everything down on the coffee table that stood between them. 

“Cheeky,” Sylvanas mused, propping her chin against an open palm and smiling at Anevay.

Anevay set the mug down on the table along with a small plate of biscuits. “Here you go. This should help,” she smiled, sitting back down. “If you wanted to talk about what’s bothering you, I’m all ears.”

Sylvanas gave the offer serious consideration before she gently shook her head. “I think I’ll be okay,” Sylvanas replied, gingerly accepting the mug into her hands. “This is more than enough. Thank you, Anevay.” 

She took a single, long sip of the tea. Oh, by the Endless Dark it was so good. The warmth hit her in just the right spot and made all her lingering anxieties just float away. 

Anevay giggled as she saw Sylvanas visibly relax. Her Queen feeling less anxiety than usual was always going to be a welcome sight for her, especially with how beautiful she looked when she was relaxed. She could almost justify sitting here for hours just looking at her, but knew Sylvanas would likely dismiss her very soon.  A shame, really.

“I’m glad you like the tea,” she finally said. “It took a while to get it right so it would relax you instead of getting you blood-drunk.”

“Am I that insufferable when I’m intoxicated?” Sylvanas asked jokingly. In truth, if Anevay said yes, she likely would have been too relaxed to care.

“Not at all, it’s just that when you are blood-drunk you aren’t entirely yourself,” Anevay chuckled. “When I first gave you the elixir you were practically hitting on me.”

_ ‘That just means that blood-drunk me is actually braver, _ ’ Sylvanas thought, surprisingly resisting the urge to say it aloud. “Yes, I recall,” she nodded. “I’m sorry if I caused you any discomfort that night. Especially after you did so much to make me feel better.” 

“No discomfort at all, my Queen,” Anevay waved her down with a smile. “In truth, being hit on by  _ you  _ of all people was extremely validating.”

Sylvanas chuckled, taking another sip of her tea and letting another wave of comfort wash over her. “You are truly kind for believing that, my friend,” she smiled. 

“It’s as I said this morning. No kindness, only the truth,” Anevay shrugged. “You might not believe it, but I maintain that you are positively  _ gorgeous _ .”

“Perhaps if you say it enough times, I might come to believe it,” Sylvanas mused as she gently swirled the green tinted concoction she was holding. “I’ve certainly believed stranger things since walking this earth.”

“I’d hardly consider that strange, but whatever you say,” Anevay said, taking one of the biscuits and biting into it. “If I truly am the only person who says that, then all of Azeroth must have collectively gone blind.”

“Or you’re simply looking at me in a Fel tinted light,” Sylvanas posited before reaching over to take one of the biscuits. Taking a bite, she almost instantly let out a small moan of delight. “Oh, that’s good. I have truly missed butter.”

“Yeah I was surprised when testing these things that felblood seemed to bring the sense of taste back,” Anevay nodded. “Perhaps with a little more experimenting, the Forsaken can actually enjoy eating again.”

“Anevay Darkflare the living Apothecary,” Sylvanas mused in between chews. “Another splendid addition to your already full resume.”

“I took up Alchemy after the Fall,” Anevay nodded with a shrug. “Honestly if I wasn’t a soldier, I’d probably work in the Apothecarium. I’ve come to enjoy the work, especially when it comes to benefitting the Forsaken.”

“I’ll have to make sure your pay recognizes any work you supply to our research then,” Sylvanas said, smiling despite having cheeks filled with biscuits.

“That’s very kind of you, my Queen,” Anevay practically beamed. “I’ve been drawing blood regularly for the last few weeks, so I have enough stock to make some progress on a few projects I’ve had in mind. Just as soon as I can find the time. I’ve heard rumblings that Vol’jin wants to send me to war already.”

Sylvanas scoffed, the back of her head thumping against her chair. “Of course he does. Can’t wait to have his turn with the Horde’s favorite toy.” 

“Shame, really,” Anevay sighed wistfully. “I’ve been the favorite toy of almost every Horde leader now. Thrall, Garrosh, Lor’themar, now Vol’jin. Only one left to go and I can officially say I’ve been passed around like a bloodthistle smoke.”

Sylvanas’ brow furrowed as he elixir addled mind tired to discern who exactly it was Anevay was referring to. “...Gallywix?” she guessed. 

Anevay’s eyes widened. “Ew, no! If he was Warchief he’d try and get me to work at one of his resorts,” Anevay shuddered. “I meant you!”

Sylvanas arched a brow. “...But you already work under me,” she said, continuing to look confused before her eyes widened with realization. “Oh! Oh you meant- ...Well, nevermind then.” She stifled herself from saying anything else by taking an especially large gulp of tea. 

“Yeah, you haven’t been Warchief yet,” Anevay giggled, a smirk spreading across her lips. “Though I do quite enjoy being  _ under you _ .”

Were she in any other mood right then, that remark likely would have floored Sylvanas. As it stood, she managed a good natured snort of laughter. “Keep making tea like this and maybe you’ll get that wish.” A part of her felt it was unwise to say such things, but she was in too good of spirits to truly care. Besides, it wasn’t like such a statement was especially revealing about her emotions.

“Sounds like a plan,” Anevay’s smirk widened as she took another bite of her biscuit. “This is nice, being able to just relax like this. Any other Horde leader would have had me slapped with a reprimand for this.”

“Any other Horde leader is a testosterone fueled mess of a person who can’t see a woman as anything other than a way to ease the weight of their balls,” Sylvanas scoffed. “Of course, my approach to such a problem is to cut them off.” 

“Mine too. Or threaten at the very least,” Anevay nodded. “I haven’t been hit on by Vol’jin yet, thankfully. But him and you are the only ones that haven’t. Unless asking for a pity fuck counts.”

Sylvanas groaned, hiding her face behind an open palm. “Don’t remind me,” she grimaced. “It’s a miracle you still respect me after that.” 

“Why wouldn’t I still respect you?” Anevay asked, tilting her head curiously.

“Because I revealed myself as pitifully desperate,” Sylvanas said without missing a beat, or looking up from her hand. 

"Oh please, you did no such thing," Anevay waved her down with a laugh. "All you did was presume that I would do such a thing out of pity of all things."

Sylvanas lifted her head from her palm to narrow her eyes at Anevay. “Despite the fact that I’m dead?” she pressed warily.

"I don't think 'despite' would be the right word," Anevay shrugged. "Like I said, my Queen, you are  _ gorgeous _ ."

Sylvanas hummed noncommittaly and looked at her hand, which was bereft of it’s usual gloves and clawed gauntlets. She could see the cracked, calloused skin upon her palm and fingers. All over her body she could see unsightly imperfections in place of the flattering scars that once littered her flawless, sunkissed body. In her periphery she could see hair that was forever brittle and dry when once it was soft as silk. Sylvanas remembered what she once was, and thus knew that she was now something much lesser. Both in mind and body. 

If there was anything keeping her from telling Anevay how she felt, it was that. 

“...I suppose this is one of those instances where ‘agree to disagree’ becomes appropriate,” Sylvanas hummed softly. Still, the tea was enough to keep her mood from altogether fouling.

Anevay's brow furrowed as she watched Sylvanas' mood sour from looking at her own hand. She knew exactly what Sylvanas thought of herself, and it was one of the reasons she felt so calm about remarking on her beauty. In any other situation she would have been too nervous. But just like the other night when her anguished screams had snapped her out of a flashback, her anxiety felt far away from her.

"You can only disagree with someone so many times before they decide to prove you wrong," she said, finishing her biscuit.

A wry huff of laughter rumbled in Sylvanas throat before she took another sip of tea. “That might be the first obstacle you will fail to overcome, Lady Darkflare,” she mused. “If I agreed to what you proposed, it would only end with your disappointment.” 

"Is that a challenge?" Anevay asked with a wry smirk. "Because you should know I never back down from a challenge."

_ ‘I know one man who certainly took ‘No’ as a challenge,’ _ Sylvanas thought. Again, she thought better than to speak such thoughts aloud. She might have been more relaxed, but she still had enough sense to know that saying such a thing would give Anevay the wrong idea about herself. 

“Awfully ironic that the thing you’ve been propositioned for by all the other Horde leaders is something you are willing to just give to me,” she mused, finding such a statement to be preferable for the sake of the levity they found themselves in.

"Well if the other Horde leaders looked half as good as you do, I might have taken a few of them up on it," Anevay said, sitting back in her chair. "And maybe if they were as nice as you too."

Sylvanas chuckled. “That would make you one of two living souls who seem to be under the impression that I’m nice,” she said, raising her mug for a fake toast before finishing the remainder of her tea.

Anevay didn't have a glass to raise, and so mimed instead. "...I mean it, Sylvanas. I know you don't believe it, but you are quite a catch. Any woman in the world would be lucky to be with you."

That remark did bring a smile to Sylvanas face, or maybe it was the last of the tea going through her system. In truth, she didn’t want just any woman. She wanted Anevay. Yet despite the Blood Elf’s insistence otherwise, she was convinced even making the attempt would end in ruin.  The heartbreak she endured from Vereesa very nearly ruined her. She couldn’t risk that with her.

Anevay glanced at the clock and sighed. "It's late. I best be turning in," she said, getting to her feet. "You going to be alright the rest of the night?"

“I’ve quite literally suffered worse than a single lonely night, Anevay,” Sylvanas assured with the warmest smile she could manage. “I’ll be okay, but I appreciate the concern. More than you might think.”

Anevay smiled and nodded, approaching the sofa and leaning down to give Sylvanas another hug. "It's the least I can do. Goodnight, my Queen," she said, kissing the top of her head before pulling away.

Whether it was the tea or the fact that she had just come to terms with her own feelings, Sylvanas never felt the urge to keep Anevay close more strongly than she had in that moment. She allowed her to pull away, of course, but it killed her all over again to do it.  “...Goodnight Anevay,” Sylvanas said almost inaudibly. “...And thank you.”

Anevay smiled warmly at her, before turning for the door. Without another word, she left. And Sylvanas was now alone with her own treacherous thoughts.

She nearly pulled her own hair out with how roughly she was tugging on it. She didn’t feel the urge to scream or wail in her current state, but her general mood was still far from ideal. Even with Anevay’s best attempts to cheer her up.  Oh, Anevay. She wasn’t even someone that Sylvanas could call her lover, and yet she was still so good to her. What in Azeroth did she see in the Banshee Queen? Was her supposed affection just another cruel joke of fate? Would taking the bait end with Anevay realizing she made a mistake and rescinding her feelings? As unlikely as that seemed, the odds were not impossible and thus enough to keep her from taking that risk. 

She couldn’t lose Anevay. As a Champion or as a friend. If trying to act on her feelings had even the slightest chance that she would put either of those elements in jeopardy then it wasn’t worth the risk.

* * *

Anevay flopped down onto her bed, her armor shed throughout her bedroom to serve as a crafty landmine for her own toes in the morning. She was comfortable in her bed, but that comfort was undercut by a melancholy feeling of emptiness deep in her chest. Her own boldness had come back to bite her, as every flirtatious thing she said to Sylvanas only hammered in how impossible it would be for anything to happen between them.  She’d been able to deal with it before. She’d been dealing with it for eighty years just fine. But lately it seemed to become almost unbearable. The closer she got to Sylvanas, the more her heart ached for her. The more she spoke to her on such a casual basis, the more she yearned to be able to show Sylvanas just how desirable she really was.

She groaned in frustration and rolled over, staring at the wall.

“What are you doing, Anevay?” she whispered. “You’re in too deep…”


End file.
